


Through a Field of Flowers

by SteampunkSpider



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteampunkSpider/pseuds/SteampunkSpider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time is World War Three. </p><p>Veneciano is dying. Slowly, painfully, and alone. While all the other countries are working on ending the war with Russia, he lies in his bed day in and day out hounded by frequent, yet mild, heart attacks and fits of coughing. One day, North Italy had enough, and attempted suicide.</p><p>The time is World War Three. Germany is on the Allies now, to make up for what he did so long ago. But even when he wins the war, there are always regrets you cannot bury away...</p><p>The time is World War Three. Is there any hope for these two, broken countries? </p><p>Maybe all that's left for them... Is each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The war had been hitting Italy hard.

No matter what he said to his citizens, they would not stop leaving. 

He knew he was dying.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he was gone.

The pain inside of him was too terrible to bear, and he knew it would last a long time before it killed him. He wanted it to be over with already. 

No one was there to comfort him in any way, so all he did was lie in bed all day, suffering through mild heart attacks and terrible seizures.

Where was Germany when he needed him?

On the rare occasions when he finally was able to calm down his body for an hour or two to sleep, he had restless dreams about his childhood lover, who had died in war many years ago.

Holy Roman Empire.

Italy needed to be with him. There was a hole in his heart that Holy Roman Empire had left when he had gone off to his doom.

It was September 21st when Italy finally gathered enough courage to stand up and take a rope from the attic. Slowly, he fastened the rope on the rafters and put the stool in position.

Italy tied a handkerchief around his neck and smiled into an old mirror. For a minute, all he could see was Chibitalia, the younger version of himself, as he watched his lover walk off to war.

“I’m coming, Holy Rome,” He whispered to no one, and stepped onto the ladder.

For the first time in fifty years, he was smiling. 

~*~*~*~

“Italy?” A gruff voice called into the eerily empty house, “Italy! Please tell me you're okay...”

Silence greeted the tall, German man as he stepped inside. Something was wrong.

“Feliciano!!” cried the man, using Italy’s human name as he ran upstairs. Germany, or Ludwig, sped through the second story of the house like a rocket. Italy was nowhere to be found.

Ludwig had just come back from winning the third world war, this time he was on the Allies. They were fighting against Russia and a few minor countries, whom were bombing everyone left and right for world domination. 

Italy had been hit one of the hardest, due to the other countries jealousy towards his culture.

And military.

You heard me right. Way after the second world war, Italy started working harder on getting his military just as stout as Germany’s. It took a lot of work, but soon Italy had one of the biggest military operations in the world.

He was only second to Russia. 

“DAMMIT!” Ludwig yelled in frustration. Where was that stupid country? 

Then it hit him.

He cursed under his breath as he brought down the ladder to the attic. Scrambling up the rickety stairs, he muttered something unintelligible. 

That's when he saw him. Ludwig froze in his tracks, his eyes on the body next to the ladder, a white handkerchief tied around his head. Germany slipped and fell onto his knees as he tried getting to the country in the cluttered attic.

“Italy…” he murmured under his breath as he took the dead country in his arms.

His face is so peaceful, the German thought sadly. Tears trickled down his cheek for the first time in years and dropped onto Feliciano’s.

That’s when Italy stirred.

Germany’s eyes widened, “Italy? Italy?"

He yelled into his former comrades ear, “WAKE UP DAMMIT! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD! I’D KILL YOU IF YOU WERE DEAD!”

Italy coughed and his eyes opened, “H-Holy Rome? Am I finally dead?” He smiled sadly, “Good. I’m so glad it’s over.”  
“Damn you idiot, you’re not dead, it’s me Germany, now get up so I can take you to the hospital.” Germany growled, holding Italy's hands gently in his. 

“W-wha?” Italy muttered, “but I-," He glanced over to the rope hanging above him, "I thought I killed myself… I saw Holy Rome, he took my hand and we ran,” He paused, smiling, “We ran through a field of flowers. He gave me a flower and kissed my cheek, as if he'd never left.”

Germany sighed through his teeth and picked Italy up, throwing him over his shoulder, and walked cautiously down to Feliciano’s living room, setting him down on a sofa.

Ludwig picked up the closest phone and dialed 911, still watching the country who was crying silently, the scars on his face stood out more in the dying light of sunset.

“Hello? 911, what is your emergency?”

Germany jerked at the voice at the other end of the call and answered them hurriedly. 

Ludwig put the receiver down and sat on the couch next to Feliciano, who stared at him silently.

“You should’ve let me die Germany,” the small country murmured, “I’m about to die anyway, why prolong the inevitable? Germany? Why are you so close? Germany-"

He was cut off by Germany, who had raised Italy’s head to his, and kissed him gently on the lips.

When they pulled apart, Germany could here the sirens that were coming closer, “Don’t you dare say zhat again you idiot.” He grabbed Italy’s hand, “I vill help you. You vill get better. Zhat bastard Russia will pay for what he’s done to you.”

Amber met blue as they looked into each others eyes. Italy nodded slowly, “O-okay Germany…”

“Ich liebe dich Feliciano,” Ludwig rested his forehead on Italy’s.

“T-ti amo, Ludwig,” was the stuttered reply. 

Italy never forgot about the Holy Roman Empire, but there was a tiny suspicion left in the dark corners of his brain. 

What if... 

What if Germany, was his lost lover?


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saved, but regretful.

My first love went to war and never came back.

Then I devoted my love to my family. Fratello. Hungary. Austria. France. No matter what happened, I tried to smile to everyone.

But...

Him. Me. Us.

The two of us knew that the other was there, but we never really acknowledged each other. Sure, when my older brother brought me to my first world meeting, fashioned in a crisp suit (I was still pretty young then, I looked like I was still in my teenage years, by mortal standards) I saw him for the first time and almost collapsed on the floor and start to cry.

Because his hair wasn't gelled back.

I remember clinging to Romano and pointing to the mystery boy. Fratello just shook his head roughly and said, "I know what you're thinking Feli, but it's not him. Holy Rome is dead."

I somehow made it through that meeting, however boring it was, by daydreaming of Holy Rome.

Wishing that the boy across the table was him, but knowing he was not.

I learned later that boy was named... 'Germany.'

Then, World War I came. Then it went. I was supposed to be part of the so-called 'Central Powers' but... It didn't work out. 

Then... World War II.

The damned war.

I never wanted it to happen but it did. And now it's gone. No matter how many times I apologize... Whenever I talk to USA, or England, or France, big brother France, their eyes would have this disappointment in them.

"Poor broken Italy. Living with the damned Kraut for all those years. I should've have been there for him. I, big brother France, should've worked everything out."

Years later, I can still hear those conversations. 

They all blamed it on the Germans. They blamed it on Ludwig.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault. I should hate him. But now, I can't hate him. I could never hate him, and it pains me to say that. It pains me to think that someone who turned so evil... I could fall in love with him.

But he's better now. He's better, right?

Germany joined the allies in the third World War against Russia. Was that another apology?

World War II was his fault. It was mine too. And Japan's, as well. But who wouldn't want that kind of power? 

I'm sure USA does. I'm sure Alfie does. I'm sure Artie does, he certainly had it less than a thousand years ago. But it still was wrong.

Even as I watch him sleeping in the chair next to my hospital bed, I can still see the scars Germany had, how his face was hardened with the death of so many innocent people. So many innocent women, children, and men.

People blame it on the Fuhrer. On him. On Mussolini. On Hirohito. But it wasn't just them. There were so many people who followed them, which made us follow them as well. It was the leaders.

It was us.

I was thrown out of my reverie the minute the doctor came in. She smiled softly and walked over, her tall figure illuminated in the moonlight.

"Feli. I see you're up."

"Si."

"Well, I suppose the rumors are correct then. You are the personification of this country, yes?"

I was caught off guard, "W-Wait, how did you-"

She scratched her head and laughed lightly, "Oh, dear, I've been involved with the caring of many countries, even though I'm only twenty-seven."

"Have you seen war?"

"No dear. But much of my great grandfather's family was killed during the second World War. It was because of that man sitting there, correct?"

I stared at the woman, who's dark brown eyes were shiny with unfallen tears. "You... Are Jewish?"

She shook her head, "No, but my family was. I have no religion, I am an Atheist. But that man caused my great-grandfather's aunt's death and the rest of her family's death. Gas chambers. Shot. A small village in Poland, and just across the river, a small village in Russia. My grandfather's parents made it out just in time. But his mother... His mother's twin sister died, along with all of her brothers and her mother and father. And everyone else in those two small villages who were Jewish."

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing we can do now, is there?" the doctor smiled. "My name is Anya, by the way."

"That is a beautiful name," I said as lightly as I could. "Are you Italian?"

Anya shook her head, "Nein, my family was German."

"I'm so sorry." Ludwig's voice rumbled into the conversation. The doctor jumped and looked away, obsuring her face from him. "I never... I never... I wish it never happen. It shouldn't have happened. I was cruel."

"It's done. It's been done for years." Anya whispered, "Yet the tragedy still haunts me, even though I never met them. It's almost like... I can hear them, calling out for help. Saying: 'I want to live. I want to live. It just isn't fair. I want to live. I did nothing wrong.'"

Germany looked away as well, and I knew he was about to start crying.

The doctor let out a shaky sigh and did her best to smile at me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that, you two have gone through so much. I signed up for this gig, anyway."

"Wait..." I said, "You sound American."

"I was born in the US."

"But you said..."

Anya laughed quietly, "I am German, as well as Russian, my ancestors were. I just... My family hasn't lived in the US for a long time, but I was born there. I moved to Italy recently, after the war ended."

"You speak good Italian."

"Thank you. I'll leave you two now, I have to get back to some papers. But I'll check on you later. I just wanted to see if you were awake."

Then, the mysterious doctor was gone.

I sighed and put my head in my hands. "That made me depressed."

Germany smiled at me, "Me too, but we should be used to it now, correct?"

"Yes. We should."

There was a long silence, before the blonde murmured, "Italy?"

"Mmhmm," I said quietly, pulling the covers up to my chin and staring at him.

"About..." He paused, "About Holy Rome."

My breath hitched in my throat.

"I-I'm not him."

Tears gathered in my eyes and I forced myself to look away from him. Germany was wrong. He was Holy Rome. He had to be.

Ludwig started again, "In a way, I share the same body as he did, but the memories of my childhood are gone. What is Germany now was Holy Rome all those years ago, but there are other countries who grew out of his demise as well. While my consciousness was thrown into his body, I am not him. His memories are not mine. But that doesn't mean I don't love you."

"I don't understand." I whispered, "He can't really be dead. He must be somewhere. It just isn't fair!"

Germany took my hand and forced me to look at him, "Stop it. I hate seeing you like this. You are not, and never should be, as serious as I am. It doesn't suit your handsome face. Smile for me, please. Please smile. I haven't seen you smile in so long!"

I shook my head and turned my amber eyes away. "I don't think smiling is possible right now."

"Just try, please."

I tried. And smiled.

But it wasn't right.

"I see," Germany sighed quietly and put my hand to his cheek. "I suppose I can't force you to do anything you can't. We'll try again some other time, alright?"

I nodded, "Alright."

"Feliciano, look at me." 

I did so, slowly turning my head.

He kissed my right cheek once, then my left cheek once, and stood up. "I'm going to let you sleep, tomorrow they'll let you out and I'll take you on a real date. We'll patch things up between us then."

Lifting my bloodshot eyes to his, I smiled (just a tiny bit). "That sounds wunderbar. Can we eat pasta?"

"As much as you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay so just FYI Anya is NOT fem!Russia, she is an OC and not a country, just a doctor. Her story is based off of the true story of my grandfather's life. His mother and father lived in Russia/Poland and then fled to Canada. Afterwards, my grandfather's mother's twin sister was killed along with the rest of the family. 
> 
> Pretty awful, right?
> 
> I KNOW I SHOULDN'T HAVE PUT IN AN OC, BUT I WANTED TO AND IT'S MY STORY SO BLEH :P
> 
> K bye


	3. Chapter three

"Ludwig... Why are we taking this route?" 

The blonde-haired man glanced at his passanger worriedly. "The navigation system is just taking us this way, Feli. I don't know why."

Feliciano leaned his head against the window and sighed, breathing in the scent of leather seats and cologne. It had been only a few hours since he discharged from the hospital, and Ludwig was there to pick him up within minutes. 

The scenery was gorgeous. Fields and fields of periwinkles danced in the light wind outside the car, and small cottages littered the countryside. Italy closed his eyes for a brief second, letting himself be engulfed by daydreams.

Holy Rome's face flashed into his mind.

The Italian let out a striking gasp and flung back into his seat, breathing heavily. Ludwig jerked back as well in surprise and yelled at his companion, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Stop the car."

"What?"

"Stop the goddamn car you insufferable kraut!"

Amazed by Feliciano's terrible words, Ludwig slowly drove the car onto the side of the road. Italy got out immediately and started running into the fields of flowers.

Germany shouted after him, "Where are you going? Italy, come back!"

The brown-haired country paid him no heed and kept running, farther and farther into the periwinkles. What was going on?

Feliciano's eyesight was beginning to get blurry, 'Damn it not again! I hate crying at times like this!' He thought, falling to the ground and inhaling the scent of the flowers surrounding him.

Nowadays there are barely any places like these left in the world... Let alone in Italy after the war...

Feli felt a hand on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Ludwig kneeling next to him. His friend spoke, "What happened? Feli, what's wrong?"

Tears spilled down the Italian's cheeks as he tried to get out an answer, "W-When I t-tried to k-kill myself," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I-I dreamt that H-Holy Rome was t-taking me th-through a field of f-flowers... And I dreamt of t-this place."

Germany looked around him. Indeed, it was a beautiful place, one in which many people could have dreams about and believe it to never exist.

"Feli," he said gently. "It's time to move on from Holy Rome. How long has it been, two hundred years?"

"It doesn't matter how long it has been," Italy muttered. "He promised to me that he would come back, and he broke that goddamn promise!"

Germany blinked, images flashing into his head. They were memories, but not his memories. They showed Italy as a young boy dressed in a dress and a handkerchief tighed around his head. Italy smiling, Italy laughing, Italy's face very close to his.

"I don't think he meant to leave you, Veneciano," Germany said quietly. "He loved you very much. You must know that."

Italy glared up at him, "How should you know that? You've never felt love like I have and seen it torn away from you and ripped to shreds!"

"I have."

"That's a lie!"

Ludwig's face reddened in anger, "You do not decide what is a lie and what is not. I've felt love, and it has been torn from me! Thankfully, he didn't die, but they were stupid enough to believe that no one would care once they did die! They didn't think that someone would also kill themselves just to be with them again."

A singled tear streaked down the usually-stoic face of the his. "You must think before you perform a single deed of selfishness, or else there will be a chain reaction."

Italy put a hand to his mouth, "Y-You... Loved me?"

"'Love,'" Germany corrected. "It's almost as Holy Roman Empire's feelings have been transfered to mine, but I know that is not the case."

"You- I can't-"

"Then don't," Ludwig said quietly. "I know you're still in love with Holy Roman Empire, and I cannot force you to love me. The thing is Feli, you've known for a while that I love you. How is it any different now?"

"It's different b-because-" Feliciano let out a breath of choking air. "I just thought you would like women."

Germany rubbed his forehead, "Gott, Italy. Until I met you, I did love women. I fell in love with you not because you're a man, but because you're you. Is it really that hard to realize?"

He pulled Feliciano into a hug and held him there. "You're very precious to me. It's taken me a while to realize that, but only because I've had many years since that ridiculous date you took me out on before the war to think."

Italy chuckled, pulling away and wiping his eyes. He glanced up at his friend- lover, I suppose- and smiled. Really smiled. "I suppose... I do love you, but I don't know if I can-"

Germany shook his head, "I'm not forcing you to do anything. We have years and years ahead of us, and I've been patient for many decades to tell you this. I can wait a few more."

"Could we- Could we build a shrine for Holy Rome?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

Slowly, the two of them walked back to their car and climbed inside, their faces lit up with the most careful of all smiles. Italy's house wasn't to far, and they would be home in only a few minutes.

 

When they arrived to the Italian's house, Germany looked over to see Feliciano fast asleep, his head lolling back onto the window. 

He smiled and exited out of the car, going to the other side and opening the door. Italy made no noise of protest as his 'lover' picked him up and entered the beautiful house.

For now, everything seemed to be all right.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos everyone! This is the ending, sadly, but I hopefully will add an AU story (probably gerita, or maybe pruhun, it depends) later in the year. Have a great day, and I hope you enjoyed this story!

**Author's Note:**

> TheWorldFellApart here!  
> First fanfic on here, so... Review with love! Danke! Ciao!


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